


The Mischief Club

by Glorfindel



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Humour, M/M, Sex, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 19:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glorfindel/pseuds/Glorfindel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glorfindel has been in Imladris for less than a year after being re-embodied. He is Elrond's lover and already he is throwing his weight around and annoying everyone because he can.</p><p>The shadowy Mischief Club decide that he needs to be taught a lesson, but will they know how to stop?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mischief Club

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Pippychick.
> 
> Disclaimer: The elves and their surroundings belong to Tolkien. I make no profit and have no intention of making any.

 

 

Erestor sat at his desk writing a letter to Thranduil thanking him on Elrond’s behalf for the ant farm that he had sent a couple of months before. Through the open window he could hear Lindir practising a new composition. His voice was so pure and sweet that some birds were perched on the windowsill just listening quietly instead of chirping.

 

“Shut that window, he is singing again,” Elrond demanded.

 

“I like his singing and so do the birds.” Erestor defended the minstrel. He folded his arms and looked resolutely at Elrond, daring him to say anything else derogatory.

 

Glorfindel sauntered through the door and sat on the corner of Erestor’s desk. The dark elf was irritated by the warriors presumption and glared at him angrily. “What is the problem?” He was chewing an apple and spat the pips out onto his hand and put them on the desk, much to the dark-haired elf’s disgust.

 

“Lindir is singing the same verse over and over again; it is driving me bats,” complained Elrond. He waved his hands at the birds on the sill so that they flew away and then he shut the window.

 

“He has to get it right; you wouldn’t like it if he performed without practising would you?” Erestor was indignant, Lindir was his friend and he thought that he should get more respect.

 

Glorfindel leaned forward across the desk and smirked. “Elrond is your Lord, so do not argue with him.” He winked at Erestor, tapped him on the nose with his finger, then walked over to Elrond and put his arms around him. “Let me make everything better, Sweet Baby.” He kissed Elrond and guided him back into his office and Erestor heard the door being locked.

 

Erestor was outraged. How dare Glorfindel talk to him like that! He walked over to the window and opened it again and leaned out. “Lindir…” he called softly, hoping that he wouldn’t be overheard.

 

The minstrel looked out of the window from the floor below and up at Erestor. “Yes?”

 

“My room, five minutes.” Erestor shut the window. He could hear the sound of Elrond and Glorfindel moaning and breathing heavily in the next room; they would not miss him if he went away for a while.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindir arrived at Erestor’s room just after he did and the contents of the conversation were revealed to him. “I thought I heard voices,” Lindir said, “and I definitely heard the window bang shut.”

 

“Meeting of the club tonight, I think,” said Erestor, and Lindir smiled and agreed.

 

The club consisted of four elves; Erestor, Lindir, Melpomaen and Saelbeth and would meet occasionally. It had a fairly loose basis but if any of them felt put upon by life or other elves then the others would offer practical support in a variety of ways. Right now, both Erestor, and to a lesser extent Lindir, felt put upon by Elrond and Glorfindel. Erestor could dismiss Elrond, whom he truly thought of as the most malleable elf in Middle Earth, but Glorfindel was cunning and intelligent. He would be difficult to deal with effectively. The counsellor reflected that not including Glorfindel had been a fortuitous move; he did not trust him to be an impartial member now that he was Elrond’s lover. This made him feel a little guilty but he overrode his finer emotion with logic. The welfare of one elf did not seem so important when balanced with that of the other members of the club.

 

Elrond had always surrounded himself with elves that were strong and had outstanding abilities; it was why he was so successful. Erestor and Lindir were also part of this elite inner circle and were rewarded well. However, this did not mean that they had to put up with bad behaviour just because Elrond had decided to play favourites.

 

Erestor went back to his office and continued with his letter. Elrond and Glorfindel walked out of the locked office laughing and flushed, totally ignoring him as they went out into the corridor. Erestor looked grimly after them; he was sick of their ignorance and Glorfindel’s cheek. He was older than both of them if you didn’t count the amount of time that Glorfindel was dead, and he felt that they just didn’t value him anymore. The blond warrior often referred to him as a quill pusher and made fun of him frequently, usually impersonating his voice and mannerisms and laughing at the upset he caused. There was no redress because Elrond thought that anything Glorfindel said was just the last word in wit. _It’s because he hasn’t got a properly working brain_ , Erestor thought.

 

Erestor went to his room and waited for the members of the club to arrive. He bathed first and opened the door to Lindir wrapped only in a towel. They were old friends and new lovers, which was not apparent to most of the Imladrian residents, who considered both the Chief Counsellor and the Head Minstrel too stuffy and serious to ever have any fun.

 

Lindir leered at Erestor when he saw him wrapped in a towel. Drops of water still clung to his shoulders and a small rosy red nipple peeped out of the top of the towel where it was tucked in to stop it falling.

 

“You are so sexy when you are wet,” Lindir breathed. He gently pulled the towel away, his eyes half closed with lust, then put his arms around Erestor and began licking the water droplets off him.

 

Erestor smiled. “Lindir, why do you tease me so? The others will be here soon. There is time for that later.”

 

“Promise?” The minstrel looked disappointed but dark-haired elf was not about to be caught out by the two other members of the club and so after a quick kiss went to his bedroom to dry off and get dressed.

 

Melpomaen and Saelbeth arrived and were served wine by Lindir whilst Erestor was in the bedroom dressing for dinner. Lindir asked both of them if they had any problems lately with Elrond or Glorfindel.

 

Melpomaen considered the question, “Neither Glorfindel or Elrond ever come into the library anymore; not since they became lovers; so, no, they don’t cause me any problems.” He moved his chair a fraction closer to Saelbeth, who smiled at him and held his hand.

 

“Is anyone aware that Elrond gets the scribes to write his love letters to Glorfindel?” Saelbeth grinned maliciously; one hand was on his wine glass and the other was under the table stroking the inside of Melpomaen’s thigh through his robe.

 

“He writes like an elfling, that’s why.” Erestor joined the others at the table and accepted a glass of wine from Lindir.

 

“Elrond is quite rude about my practising new songs and compositions but at least he doesn’t confront me directly,” Lindir sighed. He had kicked off a shoe and gently massaged Erestor’s foot with his own; when the dark-haired elf turned to look at him he smiled innocently.

 

“Well, today Elrond was his usual irritable self until Glorfindel arrived. Then ‘Fin more or less said that I should not defend Lindir’s singing but obey Elrond because he is my lord. He was so damn smug and condescending. I really want us to deal with him.” Erestor looked as unhappy as he felt. Glorfindel had been taunting and teasing him ever since taking Elrond as his lover. Before that he had counted him a friend, but now he didn’t like him much at all.

 

“Let us make him feel so beleaguered that he doesn’t know where to turn,” Lindir suggested, his foot working across Erestor’s calf in gentle stroking movements.

 

“Do you have a plan?” asked Saelbeth, snuggling into Melpomaen who now had his arm around him.

 

“Let a lot of small things that confuse and embarrass him happen so that each thing piles on top of the next. Just like he targets Erestor something will happen to him each time.” Lindir smiled at his own idea and looked to the others.

 

“Is he clever enough to work it out do you think? Melpomaen asked.

 

“He is very clever so let’s be careful,” Erestor answered. “Let us make it more random though. Let it be that when he does anything bad or says anything awful that he gets it.”

 

The group were smiling. “What about Elrond?” Melpomaen asked. He had finished his wine and his tummy was looking forward to dinner, although Saelbeth snuggling up to him was quite good too.

 

“We will have to see Elrond’s reaction before deciding what to do but if we all stick together it should be alright,” Lindir grinned.

 

“We will meet you in the Hall,” Erestor said quickly and rose up from the table. Melpomaen and Saelbeth left the room and Erestor turned to Lindir.

 

“They look so sweet together.” Erestor smiled, “Your foot felt so good, now touch me with those amazing fingers.” He sat on Lindir’s lap and kissed him; it was soft and gentle, but also firm and insistent.

 

Lindir smiled at Erestor when the kiss had drawn to a close. “I love you, Erestor,” he said softly. His fingers stroked the side of his lover’s face. “I will always love you.”

 

Erestor snuggled into Lindir’s chest. “I love you too. Do we have to go to dinner, meleth nín?”

 

“Yes, we do,” Lindir looked at his love and gave a conspiratorial grin. “First step of the plan is tonight when I am performing after dinner. No one must suspect a thing.”

 

During dinner Lindir and Erestor sat next to one another and talked more or less exclusively to one another. “Look at those two; they even bring their work to the table.” Elrond said to Glorfindel.

 

Glorfindel regarded Erestor and Lindir, they looked like lovers to him but the whole idea seemed too preposterous for words; they seemed the most virginal elves that ever existed and the idea of them maybe having fun was laughable. Lindir was the most detached elf he had ever met and treated any other subject than music with disdain, whereas Erestor was intelligent and erudite, but far too serious about his work. Glorfindel considered that if Erestor ever found out how to relax he would fall to pieces. Maybe Elrond was right, but in spite of every fibre of his common sense agreeing with him, Glorfindel didn’t think he was right at all.

 

Dinner finished and Lindir rose from the table to play with the other minstrels. He sat down with his harp and waited for Elrond to announce him. The Lord of Imladris stood up and the other elves in the room hushed into silence. He announced an evening of dancing with Lindir the Head Minstrel playing a new composition that he had been lucky enough to enjoy hearing him practise that very afternoon. Erestor felt shocked and somewhat angry at the obvious lie but his expression was unreadable, the carefully controlled mask stayed intact and he gave nothing away. Glorfindel smiled smugly at him but Erestor refused to reward him with any emotion whatsoever.

 

The evening progressed and all were having a good time, even Erestor, who was talking to some of the scribes about how Saelbeth had once fallen out of a tree as an elfling and landed straight in a large apple pie that had been laid out as part of a picnic by his mother. Glorfindel and Elrond were dancing quite close to where the minstrels were playing and Glorfindel had his arms up in the air and was wiggling his ass. A small dart hooked in the harp strings was released and went straight into the warrior’s bottom. He screamed, tripped over his feet and then fell on the floor.

 

“What is the matter, Hunny Bunny?” Elrond immediately dropped to the floor to tend Glorfindel who was angrily reaching for his behind.

 

“Something hit me in the ass.” Glorfindel pulled the offending object out, stood up, and marched over to Lindir who had stopped singing and was staring open mouthed as though in shock.

 

“I saw it hit you,” Lindir gasped. Glorfindel was extremely angry and right up to that moment he had thought that Lindir must have thrown the dart but the minstrel’s shock at what had happened made him quickly reconsider.

 

The blond warrior scrutinised the other minstrels who all looked equally as shocked as Lindir. “Who threw this at me?” Glorfindel raged.

 

“Stop that immediately,” Lindir ordered. “We are above that sort of thing!”

 

Glorfindel stood glaring for a moment longer and gave the dart to Lindir when he held out his hand to look at it.

 

“I do not recognise this Glorfindel; perhaps one of your warriors is to blame?” Lindir hissed quietly and with a straight face.

 

Elrond started to fuss over Glorfindel and decided that he should tend to the injury personally in one of the healing rooms and so he led Glorfindel from the Hall as the dancing and music started up again. Lindir smiled; the blond warrior had forgotten to take the dart with him and no one noticed that Saelbeth was missing.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I do not know how I didn’t laugh.” Erestor smiled at Lindir as they lay in bed together. “It was all I could do to keep a straight face.

 

“I still have the dart.” Lindir grinned. “He forgot to give it back. Did you hear Elrond call him Hunny Bunny?”

 

“‘Fin’s nickname for Elrond is Sweet Baby,” Erestor smirked. Lindir tittered.

 

They snuggled together, giggling. The snow was falling outside and the open fire was dying down. Lindir kissed Erestor and held him close in his arms, they had spent the last hour affirming their love for one another and now it was time to sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“My ass hurts. Sweet Baby, do something; make it stop hurting.” Glorfindel whined to his lover who was rubbing a soothing cream into the site of the wound.

 

“This will stop it hurting Hunny Bunny. There are lots of soothing herbs in this, I made it myself.” Elrond comforted his lover, who he privately thought was acting like an elfling, but said nothing.

 

“Aaagh! It hurts, it is burning me!” Glorfindel began thrashing around on the bed, watched in the shadows by Saelbeth who smiled at his ingenuity in adding chilli oil to the normally soothing cream when it became apparent that Elrond would insist on tending to his injury.

 

“No, no darling,” Elrond soothed, convinced now that Glorfindel was merely overacting to get more sympathy. The blond warrior looked so tempting with his leggings down and his ass up in the air. Elrond climbed onto the bed and took a big dollop of cream and applied it to himself and entered Glorfindel in one quick thrust. Both of them screamed. _That had to hurt_ , Saelbeth thought, grinning widely and quietly slipped out of the room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond and Glorfindel looked haggard at breakfast the next morning. The night had been one of enduring pain and whilst they were not burning anymore they were still tender. Neither was talking to the other and there was an uncomfortable silence.

 

Erestor and Lindir walked into the Hall and sat down nearby. “I was thinking about introducing bells into the Lay of Belegaril, what do you think, Counsellor?” Lindir asked the dark-haired elf.

 

“He’s talking about music again,” Elrond muttered.

 

Glorfindel glared at him. “Do not talk to me until I feel better. I am going to have a bath and you will not follow me.”

 

“I was hurt too,” Elrond hissed.

 

“I told you the cream was burning so you stick it up my ass as well?” The blond warrior was close to losing it and heads were turning their way.

 

“Be quiet, everyone is looking.” Elrond was becoming embarrassed.

 

Glorfindel stood up and leaned towards Elrond. “I am sleeping in my own room tonight,” he hissed.

 

“If you can find it,” was the smug answer.

 

None of this was lost on Erestor and Lindir who still maintained their business speak, yet were secretly giving each other delighted eye contact.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor sat at his desk composing a letter to Cirdan thanking him for some beard clippings he had sent for the interesting articles exhibition that was to be held early in the coming New Year. He could not stop giggling at the events of the morning and the previous night, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Glorfindel clear his throat behind him.

 

“Perhaps you would like to share the joke, Chief Counsellor?” Glorfindel stood behind Erestor, just knowing that he was laughing at the assault on his bottom.

 

Erestor was too quick for the blond warrior. “Look at this letter,” he said, and then burst out into peals of giggles.

 

“Cirdan sent his beard clippings?” Glorfindel was incredulous. “Sick bastard!”

 

“I haven’t stopped laughing all morning.” Erestor carried on giggling.

 

“Where’s Elrond?” Glorfindel refused the seat that Erestor offered him and remained standing.

 

“He is out buying Yule presents, I believe,” Erestor seemed non-committal and offered the warrior a cup of tea. Glorfindel refused; he felt uncomfortable and was still not convinced that Erestor was actually telling the whole truth. After all, he reflected, he would laugh himself silly if the events of the previous night had happened to someone else. No, his intuition told him that Erestor was indeed laughing at him because beard clippings are just not that funny.

 

“Good, I didn’t particularly want to see him. I am leaving the duty rosters on his desk, would you see that he gets them please?” He walked into the office and dropped them on the desk and just for malicious fun threw the rest of the paperwork that was on the desk out of the window onto the snow below. The top letter had caught his eye but before he could process what it meant he had let it go. Now he was beginning to feel even with the idiot Lord of Imladris who he was beginning to see in a completely different light now.

 

“Are you all right after last night,” Erestor asked, full of concern. “I saw you dancing and then you were on the floor.”

 

“I’m fine now, thank you for asking. You know, you look really nice when you are not being serious. I like seeing you laugh.” Glorfindel smiled and gave Erestor a small kiss on the cheek.

 

Erestor flushed and smiled. Better not tell Lindir, he thought.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindir sat in his practice room. The weak winter sun shone through the open window directly upon him. He was too excited to practice any new compositions and couldn’t stop surreptitiously giggling whenever he looked at the dart he still carried in his pocket. He could hear voices through the open window in Erestor’s office and his keen ears certainly heard the parting kiss given by Glorfindel to Erestor. He would ask Erestor about it at dinner.

 

A short while later, Glorfindel walked into the room. “Lindir, can I have that dart back please?” He sat down on a small leather stool without removing the open music scroll so that it creased under him.

 

“Glorfindel, watch where you are sitting. Get up!” Lindir exclaimed angrily, “Why don’t you look before you sit down?”

 

The blond stood up and removed the scroll and apologised for not seeing it before. “You shouldn’t leave stuff where it can be sat on,” he admonished.

 

“It’s torn now, you big-assed fool.” Lindir was red in the face and shouting. “Get out, I have to do all this work again. Go on, get out.”

 

“You musicians are so precocious.” Glorfindel edged towards the door; an explosively angry musician was a force he had never encountered before. “Does Erestor know you can lose your temper at the drop of a hat and over nothing?”

 

Lindir glared dangerously. “Just what is that supposed to mean?” he said slowly and with intent.

 

“Well you are his friend, aren’t you?” The blond warrior was still making his way over to the door in little mini-steps, all the while amazed that Lindir was not showing the least bit of apprehension at confronting a warrior; a slayer of balrogs, no less.

 

“I would leave now, whilst you can.” Lindir was holding a large bow and was holding it in a way that made Glorfindel feel very wary of him. He ran through the door and bumped into Saelbeth.

 

“Why don’t you look where you are going, stupid?” the blond shouted at Saelbeth, who merely raised his eyebrows.

 

“I believe I was, Glorfindel.” Saelbeth had a glare that threatened to turn the recipient into jelly, and so the warrior pushed past the Chief Scribe and stormed off down the corridor.

 

Saelbeth made his way into Lindir’s practice room. “You would think that having a sore ass would shut him up, wouldn’t you?” He smiled at Lindir who held up the scroll for him to see.

 

“I have to rewrite the whole of this.” Lindir poured some tea for Saelbeth and himself. “If I don’t then there will be no new song for tonight.”

 

“Well, why don’t you do it tomorrow, and when Elrond asks you where the new song is, just say that Glorfindel destroyed the scroll you had written it on?” Saelbeth saw how dejected Lindir was but he did not think that the minstrel would take his suggestion seriously and he was right.

 

“I have my professional pride,” Lindir said sadly. “I have written a new song every day for a thousand years. I can’t stop now.”

 

There was a mischievous grin on Saelbeth’s face. “Yes, you can, and you get to blame Glorfindel. Elrond will be even more upset with him, and between us we can drive a wedge into what was once a beautiful relationship.”

 

“I want them to carry on together; they deserve one another.” Lindir was disconcerted by the kiss he had heard Glorfindel give Erestor. If the warrior ever made moves in the direction of his Counsellor, it would be the last thing he ever did, he determined.

 

“Well, it was just a thought. He has been bad again, hasn’t he? So, what are we going to do this time?” Saelbeth grinned expectantly at his friend.

 

“Let Erestor think of something,” Lindir suggested. “Although I don’t think anyone could top the chilli oil cream that you thought up.”

 

They laughed together and made small talk until it was time for lunch.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor and Lindir sat beside one another at a private table and ate their venison broth.

 

“I hate this. It tastes like dead bodies. Why do we have to have it so often?” Lindir complained bitterly to Erestor.

 

The Counsellor was amused. “Because it’s Glorfindel’s favourite, so Elrond says we all have to have it.”

 

“There can’t be that many deer left in the forest now. We have this several times a week.” Lindir continued to complain, “Before he came here we had it only once a week.”

 

Erestor tore a chunk of bread off the loaf next to him and dipped it into his bowl. “Dead bodies, eh? Did you have a deprived upbringing, sweet one?” He smiled at Lindir who gave him a wide grin in return. They continued eating for a while in silence.

 

“Glorfindel kissed you in the office, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me?” Lindir’s face was not laughing anymore, but was serious.

 

“Yes, he did. He kissed me on the cheek when I was laughing, supposedly about Cirdan’s beard clippings, but really about his ass.” Erestor continued to smile and made light of it. “Are you jealous?” he asked Lindir.

 

“Of course I am. I do not want him kissing you when it could be me kissing you instead.” He looked lovingly at Erestor who blushed prettily.

 

“It was like being kissed by a dog, my love,” Erestor assured his minstrel.

 

Glorfindel had been watching them for some time. He saw Erestor mouth, I love you, to Lindir. When had that started, he wondered. Then he pondered Lindir’s behaviour that morning, especially when he had asked about Erestor. The musician had become quite threatening and hadn’t backed down. He was like a tiger challenging those that would breach its borders; and he still hadn’t managed to get the dart back. He needed the dart so that Elrond could begin investigating the incident. Elrond couldn’t start until the offending weapon was produced, as there was only Glorfindel’s word that he had been punctured by a dart at all.

 

Elrond had arrived late and went to sit at his customary place next to Glorfindel. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

 

Glorfindel looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I’m leaving,” he said curtly, and walked away from the table.

 

Elrond felt as though the whole room was aware of him, and he wondered what he would have to do so that the one he loved would accept his apologies. He wanted everything to be as it once was. Loneliness was a miserable state for Elrond. He didn’t want anyone’s company apart from Glorfindel’s; although Galadriel’s daughter Celebrían had been extremely pleasant company on his last visit to Lothl òrien and the paperwork had been drawn up for an official betrothal. That trip had caused no end of argument when he had arrived home. Elrond knew in his heart that he would have to end his relationship with Glorfindel and concentrate solely on Celebrían instead, but he had rather hoped that he could keep both of them.

 

Elrond hadn’t expected to fall in love with Celebrían. The betrothal was to cement political relations and present a joint alliance in the face of war should it ever occur. With the emergence once again of Sauron and his corrupted hordes who were growing stronger and more daring in their attacks the threat was not one that could easily be dismissed. It was imperative that personal feelings be put aside in the best interests of all who valued peace and all that is good. Elrond felt that being the Lord of the realm sometimes came at too high a price and he mourned what could have been with the one he truly loved the most, Glorfindel. The blond warrior would be hurt and Elrond knew that he would be crass when he eventually ended his relationship with Glorfindel; his powers of eloquent speech always deserted him when breaking bad news to those he loved and he had unwittingly hurt others before. He remembered the time when he had foreseen Gil-Galad’s death and had been forced by the king to tell him what he had foreseen. Elrond reflected afterwards that he could have softened the blow and he still felt considerable guilt at making the Gil-Galad lose his composure and sob brokenly when he informed him that they would never see one another again in this life.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel did not leave the Hall but instead walked over to where Lindir and Erestor were sitting. “Dart, please,” he said, holding out his hand.

 

“What dart?” Lindir asked, straight-faced.

 

“The dart I gave you yesterday.” Glorfindel looked at the minstrel as though he were stupid.

 

“You gave me a dart?” Lindir asked with an incredulous face. “I don’t think you did!”

 

“You know I did.” Glorfindel leaned down over the table and hissed in Lindir’s face. “Stalling won’t work, minstrel. I know you have it, and you are covering for someone, aren’t you?”

 

Lindir looked at Glorfindel and then at the nearly full bowl of broth and smiled. It was a devious smile, and as such it should have been a clear warning of his intent, but Glorfindel did not believe the minstrel capable of such a thing.

 

“Damn you, Lindir!” Glorfindel shouted as he removed the bowl complete with bits of broth from his face and the front of his uniform.

 

Erestor called for Elrond. “Glorfindel passed out into Lindir’s bowl of broth!” he exclaimed excitedly and gave Glorfindel a napkin to help clean up the mess.

 

“He did it deliberately!” the warrior shouted at Erestor.

 

“I am sure that it was an accident, Hunny Bunny,” Elrond soothed, and led the warrior away to his rooms to help him clean up and change. Elrond had seen the whole incident and he knew it was no accident, but Glorfindel had been so awful to him that he felt he deserved it.

 

Erestor looked at Lindir with admiration. “That was so brave of you, my love.”

 

Lindir smiled and took Erestor by the arm, and together they left the Hall. “Did you get the potion?” he asked the Counsellor.

 

“It is in my pocket.” Erestor continued to look ahead and kept a straight face.

 

“I am looking forward to this.” A slight smile played upon Lindir’s lips. No one took any notice of them as they maintained their air of boring aloofness, and it was not until they reached Lindir’s private practice room that they did anything that anyone could consider out of character or interesting.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel sat in Elrond’s bedroom, which he shared with him when they were not sulking with one another, and he whined that horrible things had happened to him over the past couple of days. On the way to the bedroom from the Hall, Melpomaen’s cat had bit him when he had tried to stroke its head, and so he had smacked it on the nose and it had fainted with shock. Elrond had stopped a passing page and told him to take the cat to Melpomaen and give no explanation as to its state. Glorfindel sat on the bed with just his leggings on, feeling very sorry for himself. The uniform was in the laundry basket and Elrond was running a bath for him.

 

Outside the room Glorfindel and Elrond could hear voices. They caught the word ‘dart’ in passing and heard a loud bang. They raced out of the bedroom and along the corridor bumping into Saelbeth and Melpomaen just around the corner.

 

“Yet again you crash into me, clumsy Glorfindel!” Saelbeth exclaimed angrily, picking himself up off the floor. Glorfindel tried to rise from the floor using Melpomaen as a support but the librarian moved smartly away so that the blond warrior fell down again. He had just found out about his cat and was fuming.

 

“I’m sorry but I heard something about a dart.” Glorfindel said, glaring at both elves, then at Elrond who was not trying to help him.

 

“Having trouble, Glorfindel?” Melpomaen smirked. “You should give up some of the pastries you eat every day.”

 

“This is all muscle, I am not overweight!” Glorfindel yelled at the top of his voice. Heads turned at the exclamation, and in the library that was nearby, some of the elves even tittered.

 

“Of course you are not, little bunny.” Elrond took the blond warrior’s arm and pulled him up.

 

“No one said you were,” said Saelbeth with a smirk. “It’s just that the chef could probably have an extra hour in bed if he didn’t have to cater for your pastry allowance.”

 

“Glorfindel is a warrior and a fine one at that; of course he eats more, he works harder.” Elrond took the warrior’s arm and squeezed his arm. “You don’t get muscles like his unless you get the extra food to make them.”

 

“So what was that I heard about a dart?” Glorfindel was dangerously close to the scribe and the librarian. He loomed over them menacingly.

 

Melpomaen and Saelbeth both pulled paper flying darts from their pockets. “We are going to teach the elflings to make them when they come for their lessons later on.” Saelbeth threw the dart, which made a smooth glide over the heads of Glorfindel and Elrond. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could make darts big enough for people to fly on?” he asked with a dreamy expression.

 

“What a silly idea,” Glorfindel said.

 

“I agree,” Elrond said. “It will never happen and is physically impossible; as if a dart could be built large enough for someone to fly on it. Ha! The idea is preposterous.”

 

“Come along Sweet Baby, we don’t need their silliness.” Glorfindel took Elrond by the arm, and went off with his pride more or less intact, until Saelbeth remarked what lovely tits the blond warrior had before disappearing into the library.

 

“They are up to something,” Glorfindel said. “I would love to know what the bang was.”

 

Elrond gave him a sympathetic look; he had his Hunny Bunny back and he was prepared to indulge him. “I suggest that you find out, my love, and of course, I will give you all the back up you need.”

 

“I am so glad that we love one another again, Sweet Baby.” Glorfindel gave Elrond a fond look and kissed his hand before they both went through the door to Elrond’s chambers.

 

The bath looked inviting. Steam rose creating a hazy mist above the pool and rainbow streaks of bath oil lay randomly stretched across the surface. Glorfindel’s rubber duck was bobbing around in the middle and a toy boat belonging to Elrond was floating serenely near the far side.

 

Glorfindel took both of Elrond’s hands in his and gazed deep into his blue eyes. “Sweet Baby, it would mean everything to me if you shared my bath.” He grinned wickedly at his lover and licked his lips

 

Elrond was so happy that the warrior wanted him again that he readily agreed and took his clothes off to join Glorfindel in the bath.

 

“The bath oil smells quite lovely.” Glorfindel felt happy and was beginning to relax; he pulled his lover to him and kissed him, one arm holding him in place and the other free to begin its downward journey in exploring his body.

 

Elrond could not remember putting any bath oil in but agreed that it did smell nice and what Glorfindel was doing to him felt divine. He did not want to waste any thoughts on bath oil; he just wanted to feel the mounting pleasure from his lover’s hands and tongue which would mean at their peak that he had truly been forgiven.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Erestor was in Lindir’s practice room giggling fit to burst. Melpomaen and Saelbeth had caused a diversion that had allowed Erestor to go and make a secret addition to the bath water.

 

“I had to hide the smell of the potion with the bath oil,” Erestor giggled. “I hope I used enough.” The Counsellor had tears of laughter running down his cheeks because he was already visualising the effects of the potion on both Glorfindel and Elrond.

 

“Melpomaen’s cat was hurt by Glorfindel this afternoon, and a page brought it to the library. He wasn’t supposed to say how his cat was unconscious, but the page told him anyway. It’s all right now though.” Erestor stopped laughing.

 

Lindir continued. “It scratched Glorfindel when he tried to stroke it, and so he hit it across the nose and knocked it out.”

 

“I don’t suppose he did it deliberately,” Erestor said.

 

“Of course he didn’t. He just doesn’t know his own strength, but he should have owned up to it, and Elrond telling the page not to say how it became unconscious is simply unacceptable.” Lindir looked angry. “We are elves and we are supposed to be above that sort of thing.”

 

“We are supposed to be above a lot of things.” Erestor grinned at Lindir then moved closer to him.

 

“What sort of things?” Lindir asked, with a slight smile playing on his lips.

 

Erestor went over to the door and locked it and shut the windows. He then walked over to his lover and gave Lindir his most seductive look and fluttered his eyelashes before kneeling down before him. Lindir was sitting before him and looked at his lover intently whilst slowly opening the front of his robe. Erestor looked at his Lindir with parted lips and his tongue flicked briefly between his white teeth before looking down to where his lover was exposed. Lindir was wearing nothing under his robe and so Erestor held onto his hips and kissed the tip of his arousal.

 

Lindir twined his hands in Erestor’s hair, sighed, and held his head back as the delicious moist heat of his lover’s mouth closed around him. Such wonderful feelings and heightening pleasures; he gazed down at the head of his lover bobbing up and down and the two dark brown, almost black eyes looking up at him.

 

“Erestor…yes…that’s so good…yes…” Lindir was transported. His surroundings did not exist anymore and his body arched as his muscles tightened and contracted in the absolute peak of his transient bliss.

 

Erestor looked up and grinned at Lindir who was breathing heavily. Lindir smiled back and after a few moments leaned forward and kissed Erestor before pulling him onto his lap. They snuggled together for a few moments.

 

“Thank you, meleth nín,” Lindir smiled and stroked Erestor’s face. “We have an hour ‘til dinner. What say you to more?”

 

“I say yes,” was the soft voiced answer.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

In the kitchens the vegetable cook looked at the note in frustration. A note from Glorfindel requesting salad instead of his usual hearty fare was in his hands. It was the middle of winter; where was he going to get salad vegetables from?

 

The pastry cook ambled over to him. “Note from Glorfindel?” he asked. “Look at this one. He doesn’t want pastries anymore.”

 

“On a diet, perhaps?” the vegetable cook asked.

 

“It won’t last long.” The pastry cook grinned.

 

The vegetable cook grated raw vegetables, wondering if Glorfindel knew how hard it was to get lettuces and cucumbers in winter. He arranged the results on a platter in individual piles, and put complementary low fat sauces in little pots beside each of them. That was all he could do for now, but to make it even more special he would cover it in a silver domed cover to be whipped off with a flourish at the table.

 

The food was put on the trolley with Glorfindel’s domed platter in the middle and pushed to the side so that other trolleys could be loaded. An elf in a cook’s uniform lifted the domed lid slightly as if to inspect the contents of the platter underneath, then set it down again before walking out of the kitchen.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

The bells for dinner rang throughout the house. Elves left their rooms and made their way to the Hall of Fire. Some, like Erestor and Glorfindel, were quiet and sedate, whilst others talked in an animated fashion. The occasional elfling ran through the passages, shouting, laughing and giggling whilst their parents or minders ran after them in an attempt to stop their errant behaviour. Glorfindel and Elrond were already seated and watched as the first elves arrived. There was much polite wrinkling of noses and most made their way to the back of the hall where the air seemed fresher. This continued for a few minutes until an elfling loudly complained that he did not want to go to dinner because the hall smelled horrid.

 

“I can’t smell anything,” Elrond muttered.

 

“Neither can I, but I suspect something is afoot.” Glorfindel looked at Elrond and drew his attention to Erestor who was throwing sweet smelling herbs on the fire.

 

Erestor and Lindir made their way to the main table to sit in their customary places with Elrond and Glorfindel. They had drenched themselves with oil of roses and so the powerful smell emanating from the two lords did not affect them as much as the others.

 

“Overdid it a bit with the perfumed oil, eh?” Glorfindel said to them.

 

“You really should not come to the table smelling so strongly. It puts everyone off their food,” complained Elrond.

 

“Take no notice of their selfishness, Sweet Baby,” Glorfindel crooned as Erestor and Lindir exchanged secret smiles.

 

The Hall filled up and the air grew colder as windows were opened slightly in a vain attempt to take away the smell without letting the food, which was being laid out, go cold. The cooks noticed the smell but were too polite to mention anything; if it was good enough for their Lord then it was good enough for them. It hardly mattered anyway, as they would be eating in the kitchen with all the other servants. The Head Cook walked over to Glorfindel and noticed that the smell was much stronger in his immediate vicinity. He thought to himself that Glorfindel was probably saying nothing because he was horribly embarrassed and so he presented the platter of grated vegetables to the warrior and lifted the dome with a triumphant smile.

 

“Aaagh!” The yell was priceless. A large toad had leapt up from the platter and landed on Glorfindel’s face before sliding down into his lap. “Get it off me!” he screamed.

 

“I can’t, Hunny Bunny. You know I’m scared of frogs.” Elrond was shaking in revulsion. His old phobia of being raped by vampire frogs had reared its ugly head in full force, undoing all of Gandalf’s counselling sessions in one unforeseen moment.

 

The cook flapped about trying to snatch the toad from Glorfindel’s lap and apologised immediately when he accidentally swatted him in the lap with his hand. Glorfindel grimaced and bent over with pain, then the toad jumped onto the table and croaked loudly.

 

Melpomaen looked on in malevolent satisfaction; that would teach the blond warrior not to mess with his cat. Saelbeth looked at his lover and they both tittered. They were observed by Glorfindel, whose anger was nearly at boiling point. He also saw the smug smiles that Erestor and Lindir exchanged. Then he caught the first whiffs of a terrible smell emanating from himself and Elrond. It reminded him of the body odour of men combined with the stench of orc breath.

 

“Sweet Baby, are you all right?” Elrond put his arm around the warrior.

 

The warrior’s face changed into a mask of raging ire. “No! I am not all right!” He slammed his fist down on the table, breaking it in two, and stood up, throwing his chair back as though it was a flimsy toy.

 

Lindir and Erestor looked shocked; they had no idea Glorfindel was so strong and now they were in awe of him. Melpomaen and Saelbeth’s mouths hung open in surprise and dread.

 

Elrond looked questioningly at his lover and took his hand. Glorfindel cast it from him as though it were made of poison and faced him.

 

“I have had nothing but bad things happen to me over the past couple of days. I have had a dart thrown at me and Lindir won’t give it back. Someone put chilli oil in the soothing cream and you put it on the dart hole, then when I told you it hurt, you put it up my ass. Lindir threatened me with a bow and said that I am a big ass fool, then he slams my face into a bowl of hot broth. Erestor covers for him and says I fainted which I definitely did not. Melpomaen’s cat attacked me when I tried to stroke it and you told the page not to tell him what had happened; I bet he thinks I did it on purpose now. Someone has obviously put something in our bath because we both stink, and to cap it all I am assaulted by a toad that seems to be part of my dinner and then I am hit in the balls. Of course I am not alright!”

 

“Sweet Baby…” Elrond attempted to calm his love down.

 

“And you have got no bloody idea what is going on. You are supposed to be the Lord of this realm but clown of the realm would be more like it,” Glorfindel accused Elrond, who felt his lips begin to quiver.

 

Glorfindel was in full flow; it was apparent that there was a connecting thread. He glared at the four friends and then at his lover in turn. He expected them to shrink under his angry stare but they did not; they were old, powerful in their own right, and had the assurance of the self-righteous.

 

“You are all in it together.” Glorfindel felt as though something had finally been clearly illuminated, “How dare you! What did I ever do to any of you?”

 

He stormed out of the hall to his own room. The fire needed lighting so he arranged dry tinder under the wood logs and lit small tapers with a candle, which he used to encourage the fire to take hold. Soon a decent fire was going and so the warrior removed his clothes and put them on to burn. He reasoned that they would not smell too good after being close to his body, the putrid smell of which was increasing in intensity. The bath was slowly filling and so Glorfindel took some miruvor on a cloth and wiped his body all over to see if the alcohol would neutralise the smell and after being satisfied that the smell was indeed lessening he stepped into the bath and smothered himself with orange and almond bath oils. He lay in the bath a long time and reflected on the events that had upset him so and looked for reasons.

 

Back in the hall, Elrond looked over at Lindir and Erestor, then at Melpomaen and Saelbeth and beckoned them over.

 

“I would like to think that Glorfindel is wrong in his accusations.” Elrond looked at all four elves who stared back unrepentant. The Lord of Imladris rose with elegant grace from the table. “I am going to have a bath now and then I am going to see what I can do to repair the situation. I suggest you each think about your roles in this.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel wrapped a towel around his body and dried off his hair with another one. He took a large fluffy dressing gown from the wardrobe and snuggled up in front of the fire on a pile of soft furs. He felt unloved and betrayed, especially as on the top of the pile of paperwork that he had thrown out of the window, before it had fully registered with him as to its importance, was an unsigned contract of betrothal between Celebrían and Elrond.

 

Why had Elrond never even told him that things had gone this far? Surely he didn’t hope to keep them both? Celebrían would not agree, he was certain of it, and neither would he. It was foolish of Elrond to think that he could keep both of them when in reality he stood an even greater chance of losing them both. He felt betrayed by Elrond mostly; the actions of the others were of no consequence when compared to his deceit.

 

The warrior went over to his bed and climbed in. It had been a while since he had laid in it. He wondered why it was considered all right for other elves to play jokes on him and felt very lonely and detached from them all.

 

Elrond went off to bathe whilst the four elves went to Erestor’s room to discuss the turn of events. They wondered how long it would be before Glorfindel guessed completely what their roles had been in the practical jokes they had played.

 

“I said that he is cunning and clever.” Erestor poured wine for the others and they all sat around the fire. “Still, it has been funny though, hasn’t it?”

 

The others grinned and they happily settled down in front of the fire with their glasses.

 

“It isn’t as though he can do anything about it, is it?” Saelbeth ventured.

 

“Melpomaen felt sleepy and rested his head on Saelbeth’s shoulder. “If anything he might stop to think about why he has been the victim of so much mischief,” he replied, yawning.

 

The conversation continued for most of the evening, touching upon various subjects such as the possibility of blue badgers, whether snow is formed in the clouds or air and Lindir’s last trip to the men’s settlements to find out what music styles were in vogue.

 

Glorfindel’s bedroom was next door to Erestor’s sitting room; they had heard him moving around before but all was silent now. They heard the knock at the warrior’s door and wondered who it could be.

 

“I know that knock,” Erestor said.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel opened the door dressed in his nightshirt, the fire had died down and the air was beginning to chill. “What do you want,” he hissed at Elrond. “Haven’t you hurt me enough?”

 

“Let me in Glorfindel, I need to talk to you.” The warrior stood aside and they made their way over to the settee in front of the empty fireplace.

 

Elrond sat regarding Glorfindel; he loved him so much but not enough to consider him part of his future; that now belonged to Celebrían. The contract had been found, dried out and signed. The document was sent as soon as Elrond’s seal was on it and would now be between Imladris and Lothlórien. He had told no one, not even Erestor or Saelbeth. Glorfindel deserved to know first.

 

“I love you, Glorfindel, and I can assure you that I had no part in the attacks upon your person these past couple of days.” He took the warrior’s hands to reassure him but they were pulled back sharply.

 

Glorfindel glared at Elrond; he was shaking with anger.

 

Elrond continued. “I have signed a contract of betrothal to Celebrían of Lothlórien and it is now on its way as we speak.”

 

“Exactly what do you expect of me?” Glorfindel hissed between gritted teeth. “Do you expect me to say that everything is all right?”

 

“I should have told you before now but I hoped to keep both of you.” Elrond cast his eyes down and examined his fingers.

 

“Too right you should have told me, what were you going to do? Introduce me and then say; ‘Oh, by the way, it’s all over between us unless Celebrían minds a threesome?” The warrior’s face was red and he shouted his reply so loudly that the elves in the next room stopped talking and paid attention.

 

“Glorfindel,” Elrond said in a low voice. “I am at fault and I have been a coward by avoiding the truth because I still love you very much, but you cannot give me heirs. Also, the two realms will be linked and we can offer aid to one another.”

 

“You still love me?” the blond warrior gave a hollow laugh. “If you truly loved me you would have told me straight away. If you ever loved me you wouldn’t have even considered the actions you have taken, let alone tried to hide them from me.”

 

“I’m so sorry.” Elrond’s voice was breaking because he did truly regret hurting Glorfindel.

 

“Get out!” The blond warrior opened the door. “You heard me – get out of my rooms!”

 

Elrond scurried out of the door, but all things considered he judged that it had gone rather well and it could have been a lot worse.

 

Glorfindel went back to bed and lay looking up at the ceiling. His brow furrowed and he felt the sting of tears in his eyes as his vision became a watery blur. A hand reached for the corner of the sheet to wipe the tears away and he wondered why he was so disliked. Perhaps he should have refused the offer of returning to Middle Earth to serve the Lord of Imladris. Perhaps he should have remained in the Halls of Mandos instead; nothing had been complicated there and he hadn’t known pain. With that thought in his head he turned onto his side and brought his knees up in a foetal position to go to sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The four elves who were in the next room detached their ears from the wall adjoining Glorfindel’s bedroom. They had heard enough to know that Glorfindel must be feeling very hurt and their keen ears had picked up the sounds of his sniffs as he sobbed.

 

Erestor announced that the evening was over. “It would not be good for him to hear us having fun when he is so distraught,” he said.

 

Melpomaen and Saelbeth left, and Erestor remained in the room with Lindir.

 

“How can we help him?” he asked Lindir.

 

Lindir took Erestor in his arms. “You have such a good heart,” he told him. “I think Elrond has hurt him more than any of the things we have done. Let us make him feel valued again.”

 

“He was quite friendly until he started his affair with Elrond, and then he became unbearable; he made fun of me all the time.” Erestor grabbed one of the furs draped across the settee and wrapped it around his legs.

 

“You are cold, sweet one.” Lindir walked to the bedroom and took a cover off the bed and wrapped it around both of them. “It’s just a thought – but often making fun of someone is a form of endearment, as if to say that he is comfortable with you. Was any of it malicious, would you say?”

 

“No, I wouldn’t.” Erestor felt bad that they had been so awful to Glorfindel when he was obviously trying to cope with other events in his life. He knew that not knowing that Elrond would pull the rug from under Glorfindel’s feet was no excuse really. He decided that he would start being supportive to Glorfindel and would try to once again be his friend.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Glorfindel was not able to sleep and so he just laid thinking. Every event played over and over in his mind, and he decided that the dart must have come from Lindir in spite of his denial; only he would have dared or was in a position to fire it so accurately. It was no wonder that he wouldn’t give the dart back. Somehow, he reasoned, this must tie in to Erestor. Perhaps Lindir’s lover and had been genuinely angry about Elrond’s treatment of the minstrel. He admitted to himself that he had not been very kind to Erestor lately but he had felt justified at the time because the dark-haired elf had refused his advances.

 

Of course he would, he was in love with Lindir who had overreacted in the practice room by threatening him with a bow. All those months ago, Erestor had refused him and let him down gently, then Elrond had become his lover soon after, so why had he continued to be disparaging of him, he wondered? Was this solely about Erestor and his treatment of him, and what did Saelbeth and Melpomaen have to do with it? More to the point – who put chilli oil in the cream? Glorfindel’s mind was spinning and he tossed and turned until he fell asleep.

 

The choking smell of fire and smoke. Eyes watering and blinded by the grit of the flying ash. The stinging burns of the whip slashed across his back and the searing agony of the flames. A dark shape, black and made of fire; hopelessness, futility, agony, guilt, screams, then the long fiery fall into oblivion. As always, Glorfindel never hit the ground and woke in terror with tears streaming down his face, feeling as isolated and as alone as he always felt. Two sets of arms were holding him as he shook and they soothed him and their presence enabled him to calm down.

 

Lindir and Erestor held Glorfindel in his distress and they reassured him that he was safe with them. He looked surprised and shocked and for a moment considered fighting them off, but they were holding and soothing him as if he was a frightened elfling and he felt safe.

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

“You needed us.” Lindir continued to hold Glorfindel in his arms and Erestor took a wet cloth from the bathroom to wipe the warrior’s face.

 

“Do you get nightmares when you sleep with Elrond?” Erestor asked, drying Glorfindel’s skin.

 

“No,” he replied. “I only get nightmares when I sleep alone.” Glorfindel felt the heat of embarrassment flushing his face and so looked down to avoid the gaze of the two elves.

 

The bed was damp with Glorfindel’s sweat and Erestor motioned this to Lindir. The warrior had started to shake as his skin had rapidly cooled off and so his dressing gown was draped around him and Lindir led him into the next room to the settee. A cold draught was coming down the chimney and so Lindir covered him with furs.

 

“We will change your sheets for you and then we can all go back to bed.” Lindir went back into the bedroom where Erestor was stripping the large bed.

 

The mattress is wet too,” Erestor said in concern. “That must have been one awful nightmare. He cannot sleep on a damp mattress, Lindir. What should we do?”

 

“There is a cold draught coming down the chimney and he is freezing.” Lindir felt the mattress with his fingers. “He will have to sleep somewhere.”

 

“Shall we take him next door and get the fire going and he can sleep on the settee?” Erestor asked.

 

Lindir nodded and they went to where Glorfindel lay on his settee and went to wake him. Eyes wide open in terror, the warrior was having the dream again, and suddenly he started to scream as though he was in the most intolerable agony. Both elves sat beside him and Lindir took the warrior once again in his arms whilst Erestor stroked his hair and talked to him. Glorfindel gradually came back to awareness and was horrified that they had seen his nightmare again.

 

“I can not take this anymore,” he said, close to tears. “I wish I had never come back.”

 

“We want you to come with us.” Erestor spoke softly, giving a small encouraging smile to the tired and distraught blond.

 

Lindir stood him up and they took him into Erestor’s rooms; he seemed very pliant and they wondered how long it would last. “He will have to sleep with us, Erestor; we cannot let him go through that again.” Lindir guided Glorfindel to the bed and then they both got in, one on either side. The rest of the night was quiet, and for Glorfindel it was dreamless.

 

Anor was well over the morning sky before any of the elves stirred. It was past breakfast time, and in a couple of days they would be celebrating Yule. Glorfindel roused first and looked at the two elves who had shown him such kindness the night before. He felt bad that he had not treated them very well, and thought that his obnoxious behaviour had probably turned elves that were essentially nice and loving into ones who wanted and sought revenge.

 

In truth, the dart incident had been the only planned revenge at the start, but Glorfindel’s reaction and the fun the four elves were having meant that a lot more had happened.

 

The blond warrior considered that they were equal now and that he should not retaliate further so that things could die down. He rather suspected that Lindir and Erestor would agree with him on that point now that they had taken him into their bed. He wondered how long they had been lovers and he found himself hoping that it lasted forever and they would never taste the unhappiness and grief that he was currently feeling.

 

Lindir snuggled into Glorfindel’s side and murmured, “Erestor, wake up.”

 

“Lindir, he is on the other side of me.” The warrior gently shook his shoulder and smiled at him.

 

“What…oh, yes…did you sleep well?” Lindir rubbed his eyes and reached over to Erestor and stroked his nose causing him to sneeze. “Wake up, Erestor.”

 

“Go away; it’s too cold to wake up.” Erestor batted Lindir’s insistent hand away from his face, opening his eyes to glare at him, and then he saw Glorfindel. “Excuse me,” he said, jumping over the warrior and landing on Lindir, “I have to tickle him to death.”

 

The two elves wrestled, giggled and screamed with laughter as they tickled one another and Glorfindel felt even more sad because he did not have anyone he could indulge in that sort of play with.

 

“Help me, Glorfindel!” Erestor screeched as Lindir wedged himself over the smaller elf and continued his tickling.

 

Glorfindel walked out of the door smiling, and the two elves looked at one another in surprise and then continued the tickling game. The warrior went next door to his rooms and pulled out a big red feather and then went back into Erestor’s rooms. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran the feather down Lindir’s side who arched away from it in delight at the sensation it caused, and then gave the feather to Erestor who used it mercilessly. In the end the elves rose from the bed. There were no formal duties because of the proximity of Yule and so they were not late for anything.

 

A breakfast of sorts was collected from the kitchen and the three elves sat down to eat, joined shortly after by Saelbeth and Melpomaen who were very surprised to see Glorfindel in Erestor’s rooms.

 

“I hate to be a wet blanket but we have to discuss all the things that have happened.” The elves looked at him, each wondering what would happen and what he would say.

 

“Look, I know I was targeted by all four of you and I think I know why. I think that perhaps my behaviour had become intolerable. I laughed at Erestor and impersonated and ridiculed him. I was also condescending towards him. So, I think probably deserved what happened. Lindir, I was rude to you as well, and of course you would take action if I offended Erestor. I see that now, but I had no idea that you were together. You both hid it very well.” Glorfindel looked at them both, and at this natural break he took a sip of his tea.

 

“I can understand that it is no one’s business and you wish to avoid gossip. I have heard gossip in the past about myself and some of it is wildly untrue and a lot of it is just plain nasty.” The warrior then looked at Melpomaen and Saelbeth. “Mel, I did not hurt your cat on purpose, it was an accident and I certainly never told Elrond not to tell you how it happened. Saelbeth, I was rude to you also, mainly because at the time I was frustrated and angry but that is no excuse. I need to know one thing. What was Elrond’s role in all of this?”

 

“Elrond was never part of it.” Erestor looked at Glorfindel. “The reason the jokes were played upon you was primarily because of your treatment of me and your condescending attitude towards everyone else. We hoped to make you think, because appealing directly to you had no effect. We had no idea that Elrond would hurt you so. If we had, we would not have done anything to you except offer you a shoulder to cry on and our friendship.”

 

“You are all finer elves than I believed you were. I apologise for everything that I have done to offend or upset, and I thank you both for your kindness last night.” He looked at Erestor and Lindir and smiled.

 

They sat for a while longer, drinking tea and talking, and one thing was certain; Glorfindel would never find out who put the chilli oil in the cream, but he was content to have a circle of elves that he was able to get along with.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The decorations were being put up in the hall according to Erestor’s specifications and plans, which were opened out on a large trestle table. The tree was large and covered with bells and balls of glass that each contained a firefly.

 

 _Just like in Gondolin_ , Glorfindel thought. He looked at the happy elves decorating the tree and wished he could be happy too. Erestor was being impossible as always, and making the elves who were helping heartily sick that they had volunteered. Lindir was gazing fondly at his love and even grinned when Erestor remarked that a particular decoration should not be hung from the tree because it looked like a cat’s backside. Glorfindel walked over to Lindir who smiled and squeezed his hand; a small gesture but one that meant so much to the warrior. He felt lonely, but he had new friends to save him from isolation and he was truly thankful. “This will be my first Yule.” Glorfindel confided quietly to Lindir who was standing next to him.

 

Large swathes of greenery held together with gold and red threads were positioned on the walls and above the fireplaces. The air smelled fragrant and clean. Glorfindel could not join in the happiness of the occasion, but found himself giving polite smiles to the others in the large room nevertheless. Perhaps it would be better next year, he thought.

 

Elrond walked into the hall, saw Glorfindel and walked back out again. He did not feel ready to socialise with him after the previous night.

 

“Where are you going?” Erestor said sharply.

 

“Back to my office, and I don’t have to explain everything to you,” Elrond hissed.

 

“Well of course you do, I’m the Chief Counsellor. Now, Glorfindel had nightmares last night and slept in our rooms, apparently he only has them when he sleeps alone, which made your actions especially cruel, don’t you agree? This is his first Yule since he was brought back to Middle Earth, and you have turned what could have been a joyous celebration into one of misery for him because you are thoughtless and uncaring. So what are you going to do about it?” Erestor looked angry and Elrond began blustering that it was not his fault, and that he had to consider the feelings of others, not just Glorfindel. He babbled away until Erestor slapped him across the face to stop him.

 

The room went quiet; everybody heard the slap. “You will pay for this!” Elrond said loudly.

 

“I think not, Elrond, another letter could go to the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien detailing your affair with a certain blond warrior all the time you were wooing their daughter Celebrían, with a hope to becoming betrothed to her.” Erestor looked smug. “The letter is already written and with a runner on the border who is waiting for confirmation of what to do with it. Should he carry on to Lothlórien or should he return?” he crossed his fingers at the lie and hoped it would work.

 

“You will be locked in the cells for this,” Elrond raged. Even if I don’t have Celebrían, Glorfindel will always come back to me.”

 

Glorfindel walked over to the two elves. “Elrond, I will fulfil my promise to the Valar that I will protect you and this realm but I will never share your bed again, ever. Also, you would have to order the guards to lock Erestor away and they are not willing to do this. They are my guards and they work for me, do I make myself clear?”

 

“You are rebelling against my command, Glorfindel,” Elrond said in a shocked voice.

 

“And who is going to arrest me?” Glorfindel took Elrond’s chin and smiled, “Let us all hope that when Celebrían comes to live here she manages to do something that you could never do; have you any idea what I mean, Elrond?”

 

Elrond looked perplexed and did not answer so Glorfindel continued. “Let us hope that Celebrían, as your wife and consort, is able to rule elves through their hearts and with love, because there lays the way of true, freely given loyalty.”

 

Elrond looked down at the ground and so Glorfindel led him outside. “Another thing, Elrond, it will be a long time before I forgive you for hurting me. I truly thought you loved me. I cannot believe your actions – and just before my very first Yule here too.”

 

Elrond knew it was useless to say sorry, but he said it anyway and watched the warrior snort with derision and walk off. He would keep trying to make amends; that was all he could do.

 

That night Glorfindel spent his time in the company of the four elves who were stepping around the edges of friendship onto more solid ground with him. They drank, played cards, discussed the possibility of the existence of gingerbread houses, laughed about Saelbeth’s misadventures when an elfling and reminisced about the days when they had been much younger. It was cosy and at the end of the evening when everyone went to leave Erestor’s rooms Glorfindel was called back.

 

“You can sleep with us tonight,” Lindir said. “We wouldn’t feel comfortable if you had any more nightmares.”

 

Glorfindel spent the night on the settee. He felt awkward sleeping with the two lovers but the settee seemed a good compromise. He still had the nightmares but they were not severe enough to cause the two elves in the other room to awaken. However, in the very early hours of the morning he awoke with a feeling of dread having dreamed that a large black shape had attacked him in Elrond’s chambers. He looked about and realised he was in Erestor’s sitting room and saw the black shadow of the invisible being looming over him.

 

Arms were around him; where had they come from? Voices were calling his name and he knew them. The arms guided him upward and he was walking along in the warm grass along a sunny country lane. He had to tell them that the large shape was looking for something small. What was it that was small, he wondered? He told the voices of having to flee from the shapes that only wanted something so small it could easily be missed but the waves of comforting darkness washed over him and he lay down into the softness and felt warm again.

 

“What do you think he means?” Erestor asked Lindir. He was concerned, as his previous nightmares had not been of this nature.

 

Lindir had no idea either and so they settled down and went to sleep; there were no more interruptions.

 

The next day was Yule Eve. All five elves went down to the market to buy presents and Glorfindel was happy because he had been asked to spend the next day with his new friends. They arrived back flushed and happy. They all met again at dinner and their friendship increased further as they talked and socialised. The warrior found that he was also able to talk more freely to his own warriors who had never fully trusted him before his public argument with Elrond.

 

Later that night they all went to Erestor’s room for a midnight drink to welcome in Yule and Erestor gave Glorfindel his present. He was told to shut his eyes and jumped with surprised when a small, furry warm body was placed in his hands. He opened his eyes and saw a reddish brown, shorthaired, very excited puppy that leapt up and licked the warrior’s nose. Glorfindel was delighted.

 

“We thought that if you had something with you in bed you might have a more peaceful night,” Lindir said tactfully.

 

“Do you want to sleep in my bed, little puppy?” Glorfindel held the dog up to his face and it wagged its tail and tried to lick his nose again.

 

“Apparently it is housetrained,” Erestor giggled.

 

Glorfindel let the others all have a hold of the lively puppy before taking it into his rooms where he put it on the bed. “I’m going to call you Ecthelion,” he said. The puppy yawned and lay down beside the warrior. He was tired and had only just been reborn, still it was very exciting meeting Glorfindel again and hadn’t the Valar promised it would only be for a few years? That would pass within a blinking of an eye.

 

Lindir and Erestor were very pleased at the way everything had gone and settled down to love one another as they always did. Somewhere in another part of the house Saelbeth and Melpomaen were snuggling together, deep in reverie. All was quiet and as it should be on this snowy Yule Eve night.

 

* * * The End * * *

 

 

 


End file.
